


Faith in the MockingJay

by ConsultantintheTardis (orphan_account)



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:58:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ConsultantintheTardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a traumatic reaping Effie Trinket is left attempting to sort out her emotions, to force the smile the capital want to see. Haymitch -feeling as though his life was a better loss then Peeta's- goes to find comfort in the one person he can. Leaving both of them with questions and feelings neither are willing to accept. Though in the end its their faith in the Mocking jay that answers those questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith in the MockingJay

_“Haymitch….Abernathy”_ The words barely escaped the trembling woman’s hands, that name rung on her lips like a death sentence and she herself, were the executioner. Haymitch began to step forward, this was not his first reaping though unlike the first the odds were truly not in his favour. A fifty fifty chance where as his first games, the second quarter quell did see double the tributes, these odds left a sour taste in his mouth. Either way he would lose. Reaped he would leave his life, though not much of one and be killed, should Peeta have been called he would volunteer to take his place. His plan of rebellion though hindered by his own involvement would not be stopped should he die, the others knew what to do, someone else could get the sponsors…. Effie. She could do it, he knew she could, she was smart, brave… She could do it. He wasn’t needed.

_“No… NO I volunteer!”_ Of course he did. Now Effie knew the feeling of gratatude was a horrible thing to feel, the guilt that came with the loss of her anxiety the moment the boy spoke left her feeling sickened by herself. Not that that was infact rare, she was the Capitol, these people, her team, her friends… They were all district 12, she often saw the way they looked at her, her hair, her makeup. A constant reminder. Effie wanted nothing more than to strip bare, to turn her gold into rags and run far far away from the darkness she had only recently come to acknowledge. Though sometimes, this being one of those times, she would retreat back into her old selfish personality, she was thankful the boy would die in Haymitch’s place.

* * *

 

Out of sight, Effie allowed herself a moment of true emotion. She felt her breath catch as she gasped for air, her bottom lip trembled, her hands grasped at the pale yellow glittery wig. Everything it stood for, everything she stood for, she felt just for a moment, as though she had been Reaped, that she was dying, in this cold mahogany room, choking on her own regrets, punished for everything she was.

The door opened without warning causing the woman to let out of sharp, startled gasp. The tears in her eyes did not stain her face, her eye liner did not run, her face was painted like a porcelain doll, undamaged by the pain she had allowed herself to feel, even the makeup she wore was a display of the Capital’s power. Not pain, or rage, or sorrow or fear can even so much as flake the power of the capital.

“Get out!” Effie managed to hiss at the man presumably drunk that stood in her door way. The man, only hours before hand, she had been terrified to lose. Now as he stood at her door way she wanted nothing more than to hold him, nothing more... Just a hug, some human contact... Anything at all really. Many of nights she had looked towards that door and thought just for a moment, that he might come in... Though he never did. 

“Take it off” His words were soft by Haymitch’s standards, though the years of drinking had left his voice deep and husky.

“Have you been drinking again? Get out” She turned her back on the man, mainly to keep the façade up long enough for him to leave, hopefully without wind of the break down he had interrupted.

“Im not drunk.” He stepped forward as the electronic doors closed behind him. The sound causing Effie’s stomach to churn. “What color is your hair?”

“Yellow today” she said simply keeping her back to him, her discomfort thriving in the situation that was unfolding.

“No…. What color is it really?” Again he stepped closer towards her, now only an arms distance away.

“Why does it matter?”

“Just tell me...Please” 

Effie turned about to speak in protest of his uncultured and rude behaviour, stopping short as she realized exactly how close he had come while her back was turned. There was something in Haymitch’s eyes that left her without words, he was dying…Perhaps not physically but it was a look that was mirroring her own. He was dying in this room with her.

“Its Blonde, you’ve seen me blonde before” She mumbled knowing despite the lack of volume he would hear.

“Take it off” Haymitch repeated his initial request, not moving, not even blinking. He knew she would understand, perhaps not comply but she would know it wasn’t how it sounded the first time. He allowed himself a moment to take her in as she stared up, unsure of herself and the man infront of her, slowly her arms rose to pull out a pin from the large gold hair that she had done for display purposes only. Letting the pins drop to the ground she pulled the wig off and placed it on the chair beside her, not moving a thing but her arm. Her hair was short, shorter than his, obviously only their so the wigs she wore had something to grip. “Thank you”

Effie stood before him fully clothed but never having felt quite so naked. She had gone without the hair before but there was something about standing there, being told to take it off and complying that left her feeling revealed and powerless, she felt ugly. “Was that it?” She questioned finally looking up to stare at him directly, he stood like a statue, without emotion, sculpted into what could only be described as tragic art.

“It should have been me” Her eyes widened as Haymitch spoke conceivably the most honest sentence she had ever heard him speak, the honest words that caused her heart to drop as she couldn’t possibly agree less.

“No” Haymitch offered her a small smile as her one word pleaded with him to change his mind, though he knew he couldn’t.

“Ive got nothing to lose, no one to mourn me, to miss me.”

“I’d miss you” Effie said feeling the tears well up once again, mainly at her own lack of decorum. Her emotional state to blame.

“Their important, you know that.”

“Youre important Haymitch. More than any rebellion, more than the capital…”

“More than them?”

“Yes.”

Silence filled the room as her answer lingered. Effie dared not say another word, she was selfish she knew that. She had once sent those children off to die expecting nothing more, as she had the tributes before them. Yes she did love both those children, they were a team, but Haymitch was broken, perhaps even more than her… She felt as though he needed someone, in a perfect world that someone might be her.

Haymitch said nothing as he moved to the other side of the room, leaving her standing there with her eyes closed. He took the cotton bud off the dresser before pouring a small amount of the bottled liquid on walking back over to her. He paused for a moment while her eyes opened to watch him, he lifted his hand to her face, running his thumb over her eye gently closing it before rubbing the bud over the makeup, instantly removing it. Effie felt her mask slowly pour away as he wiped her clean of the stains the capital had left with her.

“There” Haymitch whispered lowing his hand and throwing the soiled cotton to the ground. “Much better”. Effie’s eyes rose towards the mirror before him, she swallowed silently staring at herself, pale, old…

“I look hi-” Her words were cut short by his lips pressing against hers, the kiss was far from soft as he came practically crashing down in a desperate attempt to silence not only her own pain but his too. There was no stopping him now, not after the moment her lips met his and returned the kiss, instantly Haymitch’s hands slide to the back of her dress, it was not though a sexual movement as it would seem, he was releasing her from the shackles of the capital. As the dress dropped by her feet, his hands untied the corset string, pulling it out so it too fell free. She was bare, white under garments -though lace and clean-, were still the same as those in the district. She was not the capital now…

“There…. I need a drink” Effie stood before him in shock as his hands left her bare body and towards the flask in his pocket, his words stung far worse than any normal rejection. That was cruel…

“What?” Her voice hissed as he took a swig not saying a thing. “You cant just do that! Im not a toy you can play with”

“Drink?” Haymitch held over the flask not looking at her almost naked form, as if he had suddenly become modest. Within a moment Effie’s hand had knocked the flask to the ground, spilling the alcohol. “….Manners.”

“Why? Why would you do that to me? Why would you do that?” Her voice was a mix of rage and confusion, she had no modesty of her own in this situation, her mind was racing trying desperately to come up with a reason why he would lead her own like this, any reason that wasn’t he just wanted to prove he could…

“I’ll be off then” He turned his back on her walking towards the door of the moving train, knowing exactly where he would go. The Dining car had a liquor cabinet.  

“DON’T YOU DARE!” Effie’s voice was far shriller than he had ever heard it before, so loud it could be heard in the car behind them, where the tributes were sitting. “Don’t you dare leave this room Abernathy…”

“Or what? You’ll put your wig on and tell on me? Sorry Doll im bored of this song, I’ve got better things to do” Haymitch never thought himself as cruel or cowardly, not until that moment. He turned only for a moment to look in the now bare, untainted eyes of the woman clearly breaking infront of him and knew, he was nothing but that tribute that slaughter all those people 25 years ago, he was a victor…. He would always survive, even when he didn’t want too. He pressed the button and the doors opened, for her own sake Haymitch hoped she did not follow him out. He knew Katniss and Peeta would be in the next car, if they saw her like this she would never be able to put that mask back up, even now with him it would be near impossible, if they saw her like this… Thankfully the doors shut and only he had left.

* * *

 

The train ride was proving far longer this time around, Haymitch had stayed in his room for the better half of the fay while Effie had buzzed around both Katniss and Peeta making a fuss. Of course she acted like nothing had happened, the mask was on, she was protected by the layer of makeup. Haymitch didn’t show himself till after dinner and unsurprisingly drunk. Katniss retreated first, followed by Peeta, it often happened that way. He followed her like a puppy. Effie didn’t move once they were alone, she simply flicked through her book on fashion in the capital, every now and then a dress would show up by Cinna and that pleased her. It wasn’t until Haymitch stood up, now somewhat sober, did she even say a word.

“It was her wasn’t it” She spoke casually turning the page, causing him to groan obviously not wanting to speak.

“Who was her?” He questioned with a tired tone, pouring some booze from a glass bottle into his mug.

“Your girlfriend… The one the capital had killed.” Effie did not speak to hurt him, this was not her revenge, or an act of snide hatred. She simply had to understand, and this was the best conclusion she had come too.

“What about her?”

“You still love her?”

“No.”

Effie stopped and put the book down, again frustrated. She needed to know, this was painful enough, she had to know why…She deserved to know. If it wasn’t his heart still belonged to the past, than any other reason she knew would be only more painful, yet she still needed some closure.

“Please” It was all she could choke out, desperate and broken the word was like venom to the man before her. 

“Because…” Haymitch stood rubbing his forhead, finding it far too hard to find the words, he placed the mug on the table.

“Because why…. Tell me” Haymitch hesitated before walking closer to her, inches away knowing the cameras were everywhere.

“Because Effie, she died…. They all died because I cheated the system… And now, im doing it again. The rebellion is starting and the capital will come after me, after Peeta and Katniss… But not you”

“I don’t understand…” She looked at him honestly confused. “Im with you, all of you…You know that”

“I cant be the reason someone else I love dies… I wont be. Not again. I wont let them kill you to punish me… Not again.”

It all made sense. This simply conclusion he was protecting her never crossed Effie’s mind, she never thought he was simply caring for her… How could she be so stupid? She shook her head quietly pulling the wig off once more, not caring who saw. Haymitch attempted to grab her hand to stop her, this was far too public, far too dangerous… He was too late, the wig had fallen to the floor.

“You cant ask me to stand with the capital after all they’ve done. I would rather die doing whats right than living a full life in the shallow pits of that place. When this starts Haymitch I am with you, when they come after us it wont matter if I’ve worn the wig and smiled at the parties... Just as it wont matter if I have loved the 50th victor of district twelve… None of that will matter when we win.”

“I cant watch you die… I’ve seen too much death”

“Who said we’ll die? I for one have a little faith in our mockingjay.” It was Effie this time that pulled him down to press her lips against his, far softer than before, far softer than his kiss had been. Effie had always been softer, under the make of fake smiles and brain washing, she was pure, she was innocent... He was anything but those traits. Haymitch had killed, had manipulated, he had drunk and never dared conform. He was, by all means completely oposite to the woman he now had his arms wrapped around. Yet for some reason, unfathomable to the old drunk, she fit perfectly, as if she were a puzzle piece that had been made specifically for him. 

"Together then..." He whispered into her lips, resting his forhead against hers. Ready to take on the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> I havent read the books, only seen the first two movies. So if its OOC im sorry. I love the movies and I will read the books but I work alot and just havent really had time. Im sorry. Additionally, to the sorry list, no smut. I am of age I just suck at it.


End file.
